Flight
by Gryphin
Summary: She's running from whatever it is between them, but will love catch up to her despite her efforts?
1. Cut Me Open

**OK, here we go! This one is a serious labor of love. First off, it's my first foray into M rated content. But please know this isn't purely smut fic. It also isn't just an angst fic, although there will be a healthy dose of it. It isn't fluff, it isn't just romance. This, my friends, is a LOVE story. And when we are talking Booth and Brennan, well...all of the above is included. I hope that this story tugs at your hearts, makes you laugh, makes you cry, makes you cheer for our favorite dynamic duo. It will be a rough journey for these two, but I have a feeling, if you stick with me for the ride, it will be well worth it. I really hope you enjoy this first chapter.**

**Thank you to all who encourage me. I love your reviews and I hope this lives up to your expectations! **

**And especially to Heather (hpaich) because you are an awesome beta and friend. I still hate that you get eps three hours ahead of me though! I didn't end any sentences in prepositions (I think!). Call it an early b-day present!**

**

* * *

  
**

The knowing was the worst part.

It kept her senses heightened to a torturous level of awareness. Now that her body possessed an intimate knowledge of him, it wasn't about to let her mind forget it.

She tried though. Oh, how she tried. She focused all of her considerably impressive mental prowess onto the tasks at hand – identifying bodies from bone storage, interviewing suspects, teaching grad students, catching bad guys. But with each day that went by, it would become a heavier and heavier burden to bear.

She would feel his presence as he came into the lab; each hair on the back of her neck standing up in recognition even before her eyes had identified his form. A whiff of his cologne would send her into a tailspin of yearning. A heated glance would cause her mouth to dry up and an insatiable craving to take up residence in the pit of her stomach.

Well, it was almost insatiable.

Part of the knowing was the knowledge that he could give her reprieve. Like an addict that struggled to quit their drug of choice, she kept quitting Seeley Booth – only to return again and again. She sounded just like the teenage suspect that they had interviewed last week. Her parents christened her Samantha, but she went by Sammy. Sammy was a meth head. She had explained how badly she wanted off of the drug, but had told Booth and Brennan that there was no hope for her.

"I just did it once, man. Just one time, and that's all it took."

Brennan had made a serious error of judgment all those many months ago when she had decided there was no harm in seducing her partner of four years. After all, she just wanted a child. It was a simple matter of procreation – nothing more.

But it had only taken one time. And now here she was, just like Sammy, feeling like there was no hope for her situation. She would go as long as possible before the withdrawals set in so severely that her ability to function normally became compromised. She would wait until her senses were so abuzz with need that there was no choice.

After the first time, she had made it almost four months. One hundred and sixteen days to be exact. He had been shocked when she had shown up at his apartment that night. At that moment, she had never been more grateful for his ability to read her. He simply swung his door open and never asked her any questions.

Since then, she had never managed to make it that far again. The last time had only been twenty-seven days.

And now she sat in her car, listening to the steady plunk of the raindrops as they pelted the vehicle's roof. She had killed the engine over five minutes ago, and the water was blurring the view through the windshield. It didn't matter though – she knew where she was. She just couldn't seem to force herself into action. Her mind wouldn't concede either way. Leave…or go in.

Today was only day twelve.

She leaned forward, resting her head against the steering column. She had never considered herself a weak woman, but when it came to this _want_ she had, she felt truly powerless to stop it. It disgusted her, and yet she still couldn't shake it. Biologically, the need to mate was a simple fact of life. It didn't bother her that she experienced that need just as other members of the species did. However, the fact that she seemed incapable of controlling her desires – of even shifting their focus onto a more suitable partner – had caused a level of self-loathing that was certainly justified.

She reached out to grasp the keys and turn them in the ignition. She could do this. He was just a man. But her body was traitorous and she found her hand removing the keys instead.

This would be the last time. After tonight, she would find a solution. The holidays were coming up – maybe she would get away. Go somewhere where she could focus on her first love. In fact, she had received a request from Dr. Maiba Mensah a couple weeks ago. She was the leading forensic anthropologist in South Africa, and had presented Brennan with a very enticing proposition.

This was the thought that spurred her to action. She grabbed her purse from the seat next to hers and opened the car door. As she stepped out into the rain, she felt the first sense of control in this whole situation. Yes, she would give in tonight. But she had a plan. This _would_ be the last time, because tomorrow she would start making her arrangements, and soon she would be a world away where her thoughts could clear and her addiction could be broken.

She shut the car door and locked it with the keychain remote before dropping her keys into her purse and heading for the building in front of her. His living room light was on, so he was still up. She would knock, he would answer, and he would provide the relief that she so desperately needed. In fact, her steps quickened at the thought, propelling her greedily toward her fix. Once she stood in front of his door, she raised her knuckles without hesitation. She was a woman that knew her own mind, and no man - not even Seeley Booth - was going to make her forget it.

Her knock was answered quickly, the door pulled back to reveal Booth in the evening wear she was now becoming very familiar with. Her mouth practically watered at the sight of the low-slung grey sweatpants. These were her favorite because experience had taught her that one little tug on the drawstring, and they would pool easily around his ankles. The constant throb at her center was now turning into the sweetest ache, and she had to resist the urge to press her thighs together. This wasn't going to take long at all.

He stepped back, allowing her to walk inside. With practiced efficiency, she put her purse on the little table in the entryway, and then removed her jacket. As she did this, her eyes locked with Booth's. She couldn't help the deep sense of satisfaction that she felt when he watched her unbutton her jacket. His eyes burned into hers and his throat worked up and down as he swallowed. This would be good for him too, she knew.

So it was with tremendous surprise that she felt his hands encircle her wrists as she reached for him. He held them firmly between their bodies, not allowing her arms to rise. It was as she looked down at her hands with confusion etched on her face that he spoke.

"Bones…What are you doing here?"

Her confusion quickly turned into panic. He wasn't supposed to talk, and he _certainly_ wasn't supposed to ask her a question like that. How could she possibly answer? 'I'm here to have sex with you?' Besides, wasn't that the obvious answer anyway? She thought briefly that maybe he was joking with her. The subtleties of humor were often lost to her, so it was possible that she had missed the laughable portion of this exchange. One look at his face though was enough to dismiss all thoughts of a joke. There was no hint of a smile, and his eyes bore into hers with a level of intensity that was all seriousness. It took her a moment to find her voice since she hadn't intended on using it for conversation tonight. To her chagrin, it came out sounding hesitant and uncertain.

"What am I doing here?" Surely she could come up with something better than throwing his own question back in his face. "I would think the answer was obvious."

That was better. Even if she could almost hear Sweets' voice in her head telling her that she was deflecting, at least the ball was in his court now.

For the longest moment, Booth continued to simply stare at her. It was unnerving, to say the least. Being on the receiving end of Booth's interrogation face was worse than being stripped naked, because she could almost believe that he could somehow read her secrets. It took every ounce of willpower that she had to continue to meet his gaze. Finally, he spoke again.

"I want to hear you say it."

His words came out like a caress, intimate and demanding as the question settled between them. She should just answer him – tell him what she wanted. Be the direct and precisely articulate woman she normally was. But she couldn't…she just couldn't. What the hell _was_ she doing here? Her rationalizations suddenly made no sense to her.

Booth must have sensed that she was panicking, because he released one of her wrists and slid his hand up to her shoulder, where he let his thumb brush against her collarbone. The simple touch grounded her slightly, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, Booth continued; his voice anointing her senses and triggering her fight or flight response.

"I never ask anything of you, Bones." He looked intently at his hand as he moved it to run his knuckles softly over the bone his thumb had traced. "Every time you show up, I let you take what you need without any questions." Even though he was hardly speaking above a whisper, the words pounded through her body like a drum. She was both mesmerized and startled. "Tonight, I need to hear you say it." He slipped the hand on her shoulder behind her neck, placing his fingertips on the pulse point he found there. This time his thumb found her jaw. "Do you understand, Bones? I _need_ to hear it…"

It was too much. This, whatever this was, it was too much. She was overwhelmed and frustrated at having been put on the spot. She had no answer for him, and almost cried aloud when she felt her eyes begin to well with tears. Tonight was supposed to be easy. She certainly hadn't planned on crying. The tear that finally spilled over was her undoing. As she felt it slip down her cheek, she gasped and pulled herself away from him. Her violent reaction must have surprised him, because she was able to break free. She spun toward the door, reaching for her coat and purse.

"Shit."

She heard him curse right before she felt his hands grab her upper arms from behind her. He pressed his face into her neck, stilling her movements.

"I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry." His lips fell on the spot where her shoulder met the curve of her neck. "You don't have to say anything." He removed his hands from her arms, wrapping them around her waist instead; pressing the palms into her stomach. Tears were flowing freely now, and she swiped furiously at her face.

"Please don't go."

How dare he be so self-sacrificing? This wasn't about pleasing the other person, it was about satisfying a basic need. She can't give him the one thing he asks, and so _he_ apologizes to _her_? Maybe she needed to remind him of why she was here, in case he was forgetting. This was about sex. She might not be able to vocalize it, but she could certainly show him.

She rounded on him swiftly, twisting in his embrace. She pressed her lips hungrily against his while using her hands to clutch him against her. He was the antidote to whatever poison was running rampant through her, and the quicker it was administered, the sooner she would feel better. She was passionate and demanding, leaving no room to wonder at her intentions.

But he was having none of it.

Where her actions were full of intent and purpose, his were soft and gentle. Rather than allow her to set the pace, Booth broke free of the kiss and pulled back to gaze at her. She opened her still watery blue eyes and was met again by the same intense stare from a few minutes ago. She found herself involuntarily holding her breath while he wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. The gesture was far too intimate for her liking, and so she reached for the buttons on the front of her blouse. Before she could get past the top one though, he had covered her hands with his own – stilling them instantly.

How could she explain to him that she needed to just get this done with? That she was ashamed of the weakness within her that caused her to seek him out over and over? How did she tell him that the faster she acted, the less time she had for thinking? Instead, she leaned forward and latched her mouth against his neck, right where past encounters had taught her he liked it best. Running her tongue along the inner perimeter of her lips, she was pleased to hear the soft groan that he emitted in response.

She whispered her response against his skin. "There's no reason to prolong what we both want."

She licked the same spot and then gave it a hard suck before releasing his flesh and leaning back to gauge the effect she was having. His breath was definitely coming quicker, and his eyes were shut. But just as she was thinking that she was going to be the victor in this little cat and mouse game, he opened his eyes and caught her within his sights. Leaning forward slowly, he trailed his lips along the shell of her ear, where he stopped to whisper.

"I disagree."

The delicious chill his words caused was enough to freeze her actions momentarily, and he used the lull to run his cheek slowly along her jaw. She could feel the faintest amount of stubble brushing her face, the small hairs that had grown since Booth had shaved that morning. For some reason, it was an incredibly erotic sensation and she could only stand there, waiting for him to release her from whatever spell he was casting. Once his mouth reached hers, he captured her lips again. But this time, he set the pace and she was powerless to stop him.

She could feel the tears pricking her eyes once more as Booth launched an assault of epic tenderness in the form of a kiss. He had cupped her face with his hands, and he was applying gentle pressure to keep her mouth right where he wanted it. The kiss was slow…torturously so. And when he finally parted his lips and reached his tongue out to caress the recesses of her mouth, she thought she might actually start crying again.

This was all too much. She couldn't take it, and yet she couldn't stop it. Her hands were fisted tightly in the front of his tank top, all of the tension she was feeling being channeled into her white-knuckled grip. But her lips were responding to him despite her desire to hurry him along. Something about this was too sweet to be rushed, but she couldn't understand why. Instead, she ran her tongue along the length of his, coming together again and again until they were both shaking with need.

Booth was the first to pull away, gasping for breath as he rested his forehead against hers. This was not their usual course of action, and he seemed to be struggling with the intensity of the kiss just as much as she was. It was a small comfort.

"God, Temperance…"

No no no…No time for thinking. No time for first names. She grabbed his hand, tugging on it in an attempt to get his attention. Whatever he was going to say, she knew that he shouldn't. So she spoke instead.

"Let's take this to your room."

He actually seemed slightly relieved to have been interrupted. Good. The last thing they needed was for him to say something that couldn't be unsaid later. He followed her willingly, and once inside the sanctuary of his bedroom, he allowed her to pull his shirt up and over his head, lifting his arms to aid in the process.

The little bit of light from the street outside fell on Booth's newly exposed torso, revealing all of the planes and angles that she gloried in touching. She slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his sides; exploring the skin as she attempted to map it to memory. If this would be the last time she allowed herself this level of gratification, then she felt the sudden compulsion to remember each detail. Wherever her hands went, her lips followed. The soft hisses that he let slip whenever she touched a particularly sensitive spot was proof that he was enjoying this as much as she. As her hands came back around to his waist, she reached for the drawstring that held his pants to his hips.

He intercepted her hands yet again, this time encircling both of her wrists with his fingers. He pulled them away, drawing them up behind her where he held them against the small of her back. Dipping his head to her neck, he started trailing soft kisses along its curve while he pressed his thighs against hers. The pressure of his legs along with the terrifying gentleness of his lips caused her to stumble back until her calves ran into the bed. He matched her step for step until she could go no further.

This was spiraling out of control, and she could feel the intense desire to give in to it. It was taking all of her focus to fight it, but he was robbing her of what precious little was left. Each kiss, every caress left her feeling further out of sorts. It was becoming harder for her to remember what she was doing here. Wasn't she here to satisfy a biological urge? If that was so, then why was he the one controlling the pace? Why was she getting the distinct impression that he was after something else, and that he was taking it against her will?

He still held her hands behind her back, and with nowhere else to go, she was trapped. It was maddening – infuriating even – and yet she couldn't control the moan that escaped her mouth as he licked his way over the pulse behind her ear. Her hips gave an involuntary jerk, the sweet friction only enough to enflame her further.

"Bones." He whispered her name so softly - almost reverently - into her ear before releasing her hands and cupping her face again. He kissed her with a tenderness that quickly laid waste to the foundations of her common sense. It was there again, that feeling of sinking into something much bigger then she understood. She couldn't fight this, or she would be destroyed. Instead, she did the logical thing under the circumstances. The last conscious act that she could make.

She surrendered.

She snaked her arms up around his neck, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head while the other met the warm skin of his upper back. She opened her mouth, inviting him into her. He growled his approval and stroked his tongue against hers while reaching for the buttons on her blouse. One by one, they popped free of their respective buttonholes, revealing a slim line of skin from her neck to her waist.

He continued to kiss her as he trailed the back of his hand down the newly exposed flesh, causing goose bumps to spring up in his wake. On the return trip, his hands brushed across the top of her breasts – pinkies tracing the place where black lace met creamy skin. Her shirt gave way to his hands, and a gentle shrug had it slipping silently to the floor.

She arched her back, pressing her flesh more firmly into his palms. She was craving the skin to skin contact, and wrapped her arms around him once more. He was driving her crazy with this slow pace. Her nipples were stretched taught against the fabric of her bra, waiting to be released. Her thighs were pressed together in an effort to provide some modicum of relief. In a hazy, far off part of her brain, she vaguely recalled him comparing making love to driving a sports car. Slow and gentle he had said. She had argued that passionate was more her style.

She now understood that you could be both. He was taking his time, but there was certainly no lack of passion.

Everywhere he touched she felt branded. The heat of his hands, mouth, and skin marked the territory of her body as surely as a surveyor mapped the terrain. When he finally eased her back onto the mattress, she almost cried aloud with relief. She reached down to undo the zipper on her jeans, but he returned her hands to his chest.

"Let me." She was too far gone to even care that he was telling her what to do. She would do anything if it meant gaining release from this torture.

He grasped each ankle - one at a time - and removed her shoes and socks. He gave each slender joint a kiss before moving his hands up her legs, slowly dragging his fingertips along the denim. He passed her knees and continued up the inside of her thighs until he reached the hot core of her. With deliberate care, he brushed along the seam until he found the zipper.

She was whimpering now, a sound that would have shocked her had she been aware of it. She still had her pants on, and yet the press of his finger on her had caused an embarrassing amount of pleasure. It was all too willingly that she lifted her hips to help him slide the pants off after he popped the button. This time when he ran his hands up her legs, there was nothing but a thin scrap of black between her and the hands she craved.

He paused before his hands reached their destination and leaned down to place a kiss just above her belly button. She was delirious with desire, her head shaking back and forth as she clutched at the sheets.

"Please Booth. Please." She didn't really even know what she was begging for, but she knew that he had the answer.

She almost cried out in frustration as his hands moved to her waist and he brought his body up. She thrust her hips urgently against him, but he caught her lips for another kiss.

Never had she experienced anything like this. Whatever _this _was, it consumed her. It demanded that nothing be held back, and she found that her body was responding on more than a simple biological level. There was an emotional component. No matter how she might try to deny it, she could feel that it was more than her flesh that was yearning for him. She didn't have the strength to will it away right now. She would have to do it later, after her body had received its fix.

One of his hands was now playing at her sides, cataloging each rib as they slid up and down. Each stroke brought his fingers higher until she was breathless with the need to feel them where she wanted. Her chest heaved for air, but she felt that she needed _him_ even more. She was certain by now that he was going to continue the slow attack of his hands, and so she cried out when he suddenly tore his lips from her mouth and quickly latched them to her breast. The thin material was no match for him, and she fisted her hands in his hair to please, oh please just keep him there for a moment longer.

She was rewarded when he pulled her bra down and immediately returned his tongue to her. Laving and suckling, he had her writhing under him, barely audible pleas dripping from her mouth with a litany of cries, pants, and gasps. She was losing all control, in a way that she had never experienced before. She was completely beside herself, not knowing if she was crying for simple release or something more.

He lavished the same attention on the other breast, giving it a slight nip that caused her to jerk forward. He moved back to kick free of his sweatpants and boxers and she took the opportunity to pull her underwear away. He gave her a disapproving look, but she barely registered it. All of her focus was on the need to have him inside her _right now_.

But of course he wasn't about to comply as quickly as she wanted. He kissed his way up her body, stopping here and there to pay special attention to a particular spot – her knees, hip, stomach, breasts, collarbone…until he pressed his mouth to hers once again. She could feel him poised at her entrance, but he held himself apart from her despite the desperate way she arched into him.

She hardly knew that she was talking, even as the words left her mouth. "Booth…Booth…What are you doing to me?"

He waited for her to open her eyes and look at him before he answered. He panted his words. "Physics lesson."

He stroked into her then, his answer combining with the sudden feel of him. The combination caused her to keen with the incredible feelings washing over her. As he took up a steady, deliberate rhythm, she couldn't handle it anymore. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally welled up, slipping down her cheeks even as she started to chant mindlessly with pleasure. Somewhere, she registered that he was whispering to her - the words incoherent, but the sincerity of his voice a testament to the effect their joining had on him.

The tears continued to fall as she turned her head and bit her lip. The spring in her belly was coiled impossibly tight and she felt that there was no way to survive once it finally snapped.

"Look at me."

The command came out clearly, and she obeyed without thinking. The intensity was back in his eyes as they bored into hers. She could tell that he was struggling to keep them open, just as she was. But they locked gazes and held silently to one another – an unspoken communication. He increased the pace but maintained an agonizing control that had her begging him for release. Her cries of "Please…Please" were joined with his hoarse curses.

"Oh…Fuck…I can't…Bones…"

Her eyes must have told him she was there, because he dipped his head and swallowed her cries as she came apart, shattering like glass all around him. His own words of release were vibrating in her mouth as he worked his hips, eventually losing control of the careful pace he had set.

The world was slow to return, each new sound and sensation adding itself to the last, one on top of another. The sound of their labored breathing. The coolness of the sweat that was pooled between her breasts. The weight of the man above her. When he finally lifted himself from her, reality settled heavily in his place. She snapped her eyes tightly shut because she couldn't bear to look at him. Not after what had just happened. Everything was crashing in around her like a tidal wave, surge after devastating surge. Her only thought was to escape. She needed room to breathe. He was lying beside her, and she couldn't help her reaction as she felt him place a soft kiss on her shoulder.

She jumped up, pulling the sheet with her. She held it tightly to her body, a flimsy form of protection as she searched franticly for her clothes. He must have been shocked because it took him a moment to respond.

"Bones, what are you doing?"

There were her jeans, and her underwear was right next to them.

"Looking for my shirt."

She quickly shimmied into her pants, but balled the underwear up and jammed them in her pocket. They were not wearable. Maybe her shirt was under the bed?

His voice sounded accusatory and hurt. "You're just gonna _leave_?"

She took a deep breath. Focus on the task at hand…getting dressed and getting out of here. Something happened here tonight, and she didn't understand what. She needed to get away before she broke down and embarrassed herself further. Her desperation to do so was bordering on panic.

There it was, peeking out from under the bed. She rearranged her bra and shrugged into her blouse. As she buttoned it quickly, she answered. Her reply sounded harsh even to her ears. "Of course. You and I both know why I came here, and now we're done."

It was a lie though. She didn't know anything anymore.

As she rose up from putting on her socks and shoes, his arm snaked out – his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Stay."

The tears almost started again. He had never asked her to stay before, and the tone of his voice made it clear that he was all but begging her.

She choked out her answer, never even looking at him.

"I can't." Quickly, before he could stop her again, she slipped free and headed to the door.

"You can't, or you wont?"

She paused only a few seconds before continuing out into the hall. The only sound to echo back to him was that of the front door opening and closing softly behind her.

* * *

**Some of you know that Brennan is very difficult for me to write. I figured there was no better way to overcome that obstacle then to just jump in and tackle it. I hope it rang true. When it comes to falling in love, I can see it going both ways for her. In the past, I've written it easier. A more accepting Brennan. But I can also see her fighting tooth and nails against it - afraid of what she _thinks_ it would mean for her. Poor Booth! Hang in there! She'll come around! **

**Ok, please take a moment to tell me what you think!**


	2. Get Me Through December

_**Hurray! Another Chapter! I've been so busy with "Not Tonight" and all of the OVERWHELMING reviews, that I haven't had time for "Flight"! I am so so so sorry. If I haven't responded to a review yet, I will. They mean so much to me, and I like to write thoughtful responses to everyone. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. And remember - I may love me some angst, but I also love happy endings. And FYI - the titles are song references. Not gonna say anything else!  
**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Greetings Dr. Brennan,_

_Attached you will find all of your travel information, including accommodation and transportation arrangements. Please be advised that due to the site's location within DRC, some extra precautions were necessary. However – as we discussed – the location is within non-hostile boundaries and we don't expect to have any problems. As you yourself said, the need for small concessions certainly is far outweighed by the sheer enormity of such an incredible site. To say we are pleased that you will be joining us would be a severe understatement!_

_Please let me know if there is anything else that you require. See you soon!_

_Dr. Maiba Mensah_

_Culture, Communication and Media Studies_

_University of KwaZulu-Natal, Durban 4041, South Africa_

Brennan read the email, the latest in a series of whirlwind exchanges between herself and Dr. Mensah. She appreciated the efficiency that the other woman demonstrated, enabling her plans to be finalized within a mere four day period.

Four days.

She hadn't seen or heard from Booth during that time. No new case had brought him to her, and there had been no phone calls exchanged.

She told herself that this was a good thing – that she preferred it this way. It was simple and so much less complicated. There was no need to tiptoe around things unsaid. If it kept up like this, then she might even get to leave without having to worry about how she was going to deal with…_whatever_ it was between Booth and herself.

Of course, she couldn't - and wouldn't - just leave without saying something; but the conversation could remain succinct and to the point. A four week sabbatical to a fascinating South African dig site would afford her all of the opportunity required in order to gain some better perspective. A little distance, a little time, and an ancient nomadic culture was exactly what she needed.

Decisions made and plans in place, she got up from her chair and reached for her lab coat. It was Tuesday morning and she left on Friday. There was a lot of work to be done between now and then, and she was determined to make it happen. Her efficient stride carried her to her door while she looked down to button up the blue coat. She only lowered her eyes for a brief moment, but it was enough to miss the person walking into her office. With a shrug of her shoulders to settle the garment in place, she looked up.

And walked right into him.

"Booth!"

"Bones!"

They both spoke at the same time, his hands stretching out to steady her even as she stepped back.

"What are you doing here?" She eyed the door behind him, aggravated to see that his bulk was blocking her escape.

"What am I doing here? It's Tuesday." He dropped his hands and raised his eyebrows – looking at her as though she should know the answer to her own question.

It just aggravated her more that he seemed to have remembered something that she had forgotten. For the life her though, she couldn't recall having made any plans with Booth for today. "Yes, and I have work to do. So if you'll excuse me…"

He threw his hands up in exasperation, lifting his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "Tuesday, Bones! Sweets? Tuesdays?"

The horror she felt must not have shown on her face, because he just looked at her, waiting for an answer. How could she have forgotten? They went every week, and today was the day.

"Right. We have to be there by ten."

He clapped his hands together and stepped further into her office. "Yep, and its 9:30 now, so if we are gonna get there on time, we need to get going."

She was momentarily rooted to the spot. How could the smell of _aftershave_ be so completely disarming? And was that the tie she had bought him for his birthday? It had little skulls on it. Oh god…

"Bones? Come on. Get your stuff!"

His voice snapped her into action, and she turned to hang her lab coat back up. She grabbed her regular jacket, shrugged it on, and picked up her purse.

"You ready?"

She could only nod, her voice seemingly absent at the moment. As was his custom, he allowed her to proceed him out the door, but he stopped and leaned against the wall while she dug out her keys to lock up. She knew he was watching her - and probably wanted to say something - but he didn't, and for that she was grateful.

They walked to his car without saying anything, the tension thick and heavy in the air between them. Something had to be done because there was no way Sweets wouldn't pick up on this. As she slid into the passenger seat, she contemplated what to say. She didn't want to have to talk about what had happened, but she also didn't want there to be no communication between them.

As he pulled the SUV out onto the street, he snapped his sunglasses on. It may be December, but it was bright and crisp outside. He drummed three fingers on the top of the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for a light to change.

She was all too aware of his presence in the vehicle with her. How many times had they sat side by side, just like this? By now, she had grown accustomed to the warm affection that she felt toward her partner. If it was mixed with the occasional thrill of sexual tension, then it just kept her job fun and exciting. But this? This all knowing awareness? It was consuming and distracting. How could she work like this without being a liability to the case? As they drove, she continued to hold on to the knowledge that she was leaving soon, and then she could sort all this out. It became a sort of mantra – just get through the next four days.

His voice broke through her inner monologue. "You couldn't possibly press any closer to the door, Bones." His eyes broke contact with the road just long enough to cast a careful glance at her. "Don't you think Sweets is going to notice if you sit like that in his office?"

She looked down at herself and was surprised to see that he was correct. She had picked up enough over the years to be able to understand a little about body language. And hers was sending up some definite red flags.

She took a deep breath and slowly eased herself into a more relaxed and natural position. "Sorry. Is this better?"

Swinging his head to look at her again, he gave a terse nod before turning back to the road. Silence descended once more between them, the occasional drum of Booth's fingertips sounding like gun fire. Silence used to be comfortable for them. In fact, most of the important things that they "said" to one another was spoken in silence; their own bizarre form of non-verbal communication. But this was very different and the effect was one of discomfort.

Eventually, she got fed up with her own inability to function. This was _Booth_, her partner and her friend. She knew how to act around him. Surely she could find enough to talk about for the duration of the ride? Adopting a casual air, she relaxed further back in the seat. She could do this.

"How was your weekend?"

His reply was swift and concise. "Fine."

He didn't look at her, offer more information, or stop the incessant drumming. Maybe he needed a little more prodding? If only she didn't feel so completely out of her element here. He was her translator when it came to the emotional aspect of people. Although she could read him better then she could others, she still felt inadequately equipped to analyze his behavior.

"Did you get to see Parker?"

"He stayed the night on Saturday." Again, no elaboration beyond his quick reply.

She turned in her seat so that she was facing him, noticing with some satisfaction that her movements at least caused him to look her way again. "Booth, you cannot criticize my _non_-verbal communication and then go on to demonstrate such poor _verbal _communication. Sweets will notice that just as much, if not more!"

He didn't respond. He flicked the blinker on, signaling his merge into the left turn lane as he looked back over his shoulder to check his blind spot. As he pulled into the parking lot, she could feel her frustration building. Why wasn't he talking to her?

"Booth, why are…"

"We're here." He cut off her question as he pulled the SUV into a parking spot, threw the gears into park, and switched off the ignition. A quick flick of his wrist had his seatbelt coiling back over his shoulder. As he stepped out onto the pavement and reached to swing his door shut, she fired off another question.

"Why is this such a big deal?"

The door slammed shut just as "deal" left her mouth. For a brief moment, he just stood there – staring straight ahead. When he started moving, it was with an alarming amount of intent. His strides brought him around the vehicle within a few short seconds, where he proceeded to jerk her door open. She barely had time to register what he was doing, let alone get out of his way. Instead, she found herself shrinking back as he pulled his sunglasses off and leaned his body against the truck's frame.

"What's the _big deal_? Are you fucking _serious_?" His body loomed over hers, his eyes taking on that same intensity that she had been captivated by previously. He rarely ever swore, and especially not at her. For some reason, the fact that he chose now to do so simply added to the overpowering _maleness_ of his presence. She could feel her body reacting violently, her heart rate suddenly rapid and loud in her ears. Her mouth went dry as she clamored for words.

"I…I don't understand."

He glared down at her in response. "Of course you don't."

Despite the intense heat that had her nearly incapacitated, her pride flared up in response. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He stared hard at her for another agonizingly arousing moment before he answered. "I let you take, take, take. You come whenever you feel like it, and I never ask you any questions." He reached out one hand, burning her skin where his fingers settled along her jaw. She wanted to pull back into the relative safety of the truck's interior, but she felt powerless – frozen in place. "I've never made any demands of you."

Somehow, she found her voice. It sounded tremulous at best, but at least it was there. "It's not like you haven't enjoyed it just as much as I have."

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. "True." He moved in closer until she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. "I wont deny that you and I are…_extremely_ compatible. But…" And here he paused to move his hand to her chin, capturing her full attention for what he said next. "I think there's something more than that."

The words melted into a whisper, his gaze flicking from her eyes down to her lips. With a conflicting sense of anticipation and dread, she realized he was going to kiss her. Not only had she told herself that she was going to abstain from him in order to move on past the attraction she felt, but she had never allowed their physical relationship to manifest anywhere outside of their respective residences.

Suddenly terrified of what it would mean to kiss him here, she turned her face slightly. He stopped his decent towards her mouth only a hair's breadth away from her skin. He hovered for only a moment before pulling back.

She was afraid to look at him – afraid to see what her rejection had cost them. Would he be even more angry with her now? She glanced hesitantly back up at him, and was shocked to see that his face had hardened into an impervious mask. His eyes had become twin points of steel, his jaw set firmly beneath his equally rigid mouth. For a brief second, she caught a glimpse of the man he had been before she met him. This man had been an Army Ranger – all hard and uncompromising until he had imploded into a self-destructive mess. This man was darker and much more dangerous than the partner she had known for over four years.

Her heart still hammered in her chest as she floundered for what to say next. She did not like feeling as if she was missing something here. Could she really be so lacking in instinct?

He spoke again, this time seemingly to himself. "I figured as much…" Raising his eyes to meet hers, he addressed her directly with a voice as uncompromising as flint. "What _exactly_ are we, Bones?"

Her reply was automatic, years' worth of repetition bringing the response to her lips. "We're partners."

His expression scrunched up as if he'd just tasted something acidic. "Oh please, even you can't believe that line anymore."

"But we _are_ partners…"

"You don't think we're anything more than that?"

This time, she took a little longer with her answer. What was he looking for her to say? She was being truthful in saying that they were partners. Of course they were also…

"Friends. We're friends." Some of the anxiety in her stomach settled because she was pleased to have come up with the right answer. Partners and friends. _That's_ what they were. So she was surprised when he responded with a bitter laugh.

"Friends. What kind of friends are we then? Friends with benefits?"

She was becoming more and more confused. Why was he upset about being her friend? Could he really not even see her that way anymore? Was he telling her that their friendship was unsalvageable? She could feel tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes. It seemed like she was always crying around him these days. It was humiliating.

"Friends with benefits?"

"Yeah, you know. The kind of friends that get to sleep together without having any kind of commitment outside of friendship."

He practically sneered the words out, sounding disgusted with the very idea. Nothing was making sense. She couldn't even think straight right now. His body was hovering over hers, all coiled strength and male energy. His very presence seemed to be robbing her of her common sense. They were friends…or they weren't? She didn't understand. But his explanation of the term seemed to fit them.

Hesitantly, she peered up at him, her brows drawn together in confusion. "That sounds like an accurate description of our current dynamic…"

He stared hard at her, his eyes seemingly burning a path straight through her. She tried desperately to mask whatever it was that was hidden there. Even she didn't know, and there was no way that she wanted him to find out before her.

Breathe seep - just four more days.

Suddenly he straightened up, snapping his sunglasses back in place. "Yep, Bones. I guess it is." He stepped back, allowing her the exit that she sought. What was happening here? Obviously, this was just more proof that she needed to get away from him and get her head sorted out. They couldn't keep going like this. In fact, she was suddenly and keenly overwhelmed by how much she missed _them_. The way that they used to be.

"Come on, we're gonna be late."

His terse tone of voice combined with his stony expression caused tears to once again threaten to fall. Lurching forward, she stepped out of the SUV and around Booth. He shut the door behind her and used the remote to lock the doors.

Ever the gentleman, he ushered her before him. But she couldn't help but notice that his hand only hovered over her back.

_It never made contact._

_

* * *

_

_**So I was originally planning on putting the session with Sweets in this chapter, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it needs its own space. What do you think will happen? Will they trick Sweets into thinking all is well? What kind of shenanigans will these two get into next? And have I told you guys lately that I LOVE YOU? Because I do...**  
_


	3. Dialogue

_Hi everyone! Did you guys think I had forgotten about this story? Ohohohohooo...if you only knew. I have never...NEVER...had such a hard time writing something! I even got half way through and had to scrap it because it wasn't even close to good enough. I don't want you guys to waste your time reading a bunch of sub par nonsense. So...please know that this chap is a serious, SERIOUS labor of love. I hope that you are able to feel the scene and the emotions. As always, a monstrous thank you to Heather (_**hpaich**_) because she bugged me, reminded me, encouraged me, and looked it over multiple times. She also found the song for the title. Gah - I love Rosie Thomas. There are also many others that have really been consistent in helping me to get this done, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it._

_Another brief note: I am a hardcore Canon writer. I need things to fit into the show and sound believable. The last couple eps of the season really jerked us around, plus I was spoiled up to my neck...so know that there may be a slight rewrite of chap 1 in the future.  
_

* * *

_She hated psychology_.

Both Sweets and Booth had often been on the receiving end of one of her lofty lectures regarding soft sciences. She had consistently preached on the inaccuracy of relying on evidence that could not be grounded in fact.

This, however, was not entirely the truth.

She would always be more readily receptive to concrete and quantifiable facts. Admittedly though, past encounters had given her the opportunity to observe the undeniable proof that someone gifted in reading the subtle tell-tale signs of human behavior could be an immeasurable asset to an investigation.

But she hated psychology for an entirely different reason then she admits to.

It is the study of perception, cognition, personality, behavior…and emotion.

When she was a teenager, life had dealt some cruel cards. But she was a survivor, and would never think of complaining about her hand. She'd done what was necessary in order to successfully play those cards, and bluffing was a talent that she had acquired along the way. As the years went by, she started to forget that she was putting on a front, and started believing the little lies she told herself. Success was easier to achieve when certain emotional responses were kept firmly in check, and she had convinced herself that there was really no need to submit herself to the gambit of human emotion.

Today, she sat in Sweets' office as a woman that could barely be extricated from the truth and the half-truths. What was real, and what truly mattered? How much of what she had learned out of necessity was even relevant anymore?

With her poker face firmly in place, she told herself that these were questions for another day. Today, she sat across from the young man that considered her his patient, and he the surgeon that would carefully remove the delicate tendrils of once-needed lies. She knew that he was determined in his quest to discover where they ended and she began.

Truth be told…she wanted to know as well.

But today, she was determined to do this her way. Four more days was all she needed to maintain this farce for, and then she would be free to examine herself at her leisure. There was no way that she would expose herself here in this room to two men that – for much different reasons – seemed to relish in calling her bluff.

"So neither one of you are willing to talk about what's going on?"

Dr. Lance Sweets sat back in his chair, an obvious look of exasperation on his face. He had quickly picked up on the altered dynamic between Booth and herself despite their best efforts, coming to the realization within minutes of their arrival. So far, he had gotten placating answers from both of them, but she knew he wasn't buying it. To her intense aggravation, she noticed that Booth couldn't keep his anxiety from manifesting through his jittery behavior. For a man that was intent on keeping their…_situation_…quiet, he wasn't doing a very good job of controlling himself. So far, he had been cracking campy jokes, fidgeting with his tie, and rearranging his position on the opposite end of their very small loveseat.

Why did this damn couch have to be so small anyway? His proximity to her was making it difficult to maintain her calm demeanor, as each of her senses registered the man that had only a short time ago been looming over her in the truck. She could easily pick up the intensely arousing smell that was Booth – a mixture of his cologne, aftershave, and soap. Sandalwood, she noted distractedly. Why had the scent of him never triggered a response like this from her before? She suddenly found herself fighting the intense urge to start fidgeting in the same manner that he was, and instead settled on crossing her legs in an attempt to somehow sooth her aching center.

"It's like we already told you Sweets…we're fine!" Booth held his hands out, a cheap grin attempting to light up his features. He shrugged his shoulders and looked over at her. "Right, Bones?"

It took her a moment longer than necessary to realize that Booth had spoken to her, as her mind was clamoring with the images of him naked, on top of her, inside of her, whispering words that she couldn't even recall. She could almost feel the stroke of his breath on her ear as his voice caressed her skin. With a concerted effort, she considered her response.

She had no desire to delve into their current issues here with the psychologist, but she was just as annoyed with Booth's efforts to control what she said. He had always been the one that was too modest to have open discussions about sex, but she had no such reservations. He raised his brows at her, the not-so-subtle incline of his shoulders easily giving him away. As Booth silently willed her to agree with him, she calmly turned her face forward. She may not be willing to divulge personal information, but she was also not about to give her partner the satisfaction of agreeing with him.

Sweets watched the exchange carefully before rolling his eyes in frustration. "You guys have _got_ to be kidding me." He turned his attention fully to her. "Dr. Brennan?"

She thought carefully before answering. How could she manage to be honest while still giving neither man the satisfaction of having coaxed their desired response from her?

"There isn't anything that requires your attention, Dr. Sweets."

Sweets took his notepad and pen and tossed them down onto the small side table next to his chair. He momentarily brought his hands up to his face, where he pressed his fingertips to his temples before running them back through his hair. Clearly, he was losing his patience. "Great. This is just great. I can't get a straight answer out of either of you."

Her attention was pulled away as his pen rolled off of the table and onto the floor.

"Your pen fell on the floor, Sweets." She nodded her head in the direction that it had taken.

"My pen fell…my _pen_? Are you _kidding_ me?" His response was swift and left her feeling a little stunned. He sat forward sharply, one of his elbows coming to rest against his knee while he used his hand to point at both her and Booth in turns. The kid that they teased incessantly was gone, and in his place was a no-nonsense grown man that had reached the end of his tolerance for their games.

"Let's get one thing straight here, ok? I have a job to do. I'm not just some kid that you two have the right to take seriously or not."

Both of them opened their mouths to protest, but he cut them off with his hand.

"I'm not finished. Like it or not, your partnership is subject to my professional opinion. When there are obvious signs of distress between you, then for whatever reason, I need to make a call as to whether or not it affects your working relationship."

This prompted Booth's instant reaction, and she was impressed that Sweets didn't even flinch as her partner went from unassuming boredom to carefully coiled anger in a heartbeat. "Now just hold up right there, Sweets. Let's _you_ get one thing straight here, ok? There is no way in _hell _that anyone is ever gonna split us up." Booth looked to his left, checking for her confirmation.

She immediately bristled at the idea, her head nodding in agreement. It had never even crossed her mind that they wouldn't get past this. She wouldn't – _couldn't _– even entertain the thought. "That's right."

Sweets leaned back in his chair, slinging each arm out over their respective armrests. "Well, at least that's a show of solidarity from you both." He contemplated each partner in turn before resuming his friendlier countenance. " Look, I'm on your guys' side. I'm not saying that I want to separate you. But neither of you are giving me anything to justify your recent behavior, and I'm not just talking about today's session.

She exchanged a silent look with Booth that didn't go unnoticed by their observer.

Sweets continued, "I haven't said anything because I wanted to give you guys time to tell me what was going on, but neither of you have been forthcoming. I've been observing a clear behavioral shift in your dynamic for a while now, and rather than addressing whatever it is, you guys are being silent about it."

The psychologist leaned forward once more, his face echoing his serious demeanor.

"You guys have to give me something…you have to."

His last words were delivered with sincerity and aimed directly at Booth. She noticed with some interest that the two men seemed to come to some silent understanding as Booth seemed to deflate right before her eyes. He slumped back into the couch and pressed his hand to his eyes. They were each quiet for a moment, lost in the contemplation of their individual thoughts. Booth's weary voice was the one that broke the silence.

"I don't know what you want us to tell you Sweets. Its…personal."

If she was surprised by Booth's soft admission, she was even more taken aback at the look of sympathy the younger man gave them.

"I understand, Agent Booth. I really do. And I also understand that conversations of a personal nature are difficult for you." He turned to face her. "And for you as well, Dr. Brennan." He took a deep breath before continuing. "If you guys don't want to talk about it…"

Booth interrupted him. "We don't want to talk about it."

Sweets just continued, nodding to acknowledge Booth's response. "…If you guys don't want to talk about it, then you're placing me in a very difficult position."

She could feel a slow, cold knot of dread beginning to twist its way into her stomach. She had a keen sense of panic that something bad was coming. Booth always told her that she had poor gut instincts, but what he didn't realize was that she had honed one particular one over the years, and that was her ability to recognize the sense of impending pain.

"I don't want to have to do this to you guys…"

Her chest hitched involuntarily and she sucked in a quick breath. She willed her lungs to fill slowly and then exhale in a normal rhythm, trying her best to remain level-headed despite the fact that she could feel her heart hammering beneath her ribcage. Outwardly, she was the picture of nonchalance, but inside she was in a state of turmoil. He couldn't be saying what she was certain he was leading up to.

"I'm not prepared to recommend a permanent dissolution of the partnership…"

No no no…the panic flared into a white hot flame, gripping her tightly with its steely claws. Snippets of conversation flashed through her head accompanied by horribly vivid images. They were just coffee. They might not even be that. Her life after he'd been shot; the pain of the mere recollection so intense that she had to slam the mental lid back onto the lock box she kept it in.

"But until you guys can work through whatever it is that's between you…"

She could barely comprehend what he was saying. She caught Booth's eyes when she looked over at him, his gaze already trained steadily on her. His face was a mask of stony silence. He wasn't going to say anything to stop Sweets. Maybe she had pushed him too far…maybe he didn't WANT to work with her anymore. He might even be happier once he didn't have to deal with her inability to connect on the level he craved.

"It's clear to me that your effectiveness as partners is under serious question, for the first time in over four years causing the two of you to be a liability…"

Where was her voice? She had to say something! She was frantically wracking her brain for the perfect response – one that would guarantee that she remained partners with Booth. He didn't want to talk about it, but she was frantic with the need to stop Sweets from separating them, even temporarily. What could she say? There was so much to explain, and she wasn't even sure of any of it herself. Her mind was darting back and forth, urging her mouth open before she could even register what was going to come out of it.

"We've been sleeping together!"

Both men immediately whipped their heads in her direction, piercing her with two sets of brown eyes. Sweets' appeared to be absolutely shocked, his mouth hanging open for a moment before closing and opening again in a useless attempt to say something.

Booth…well, he looked…_angry_.

Livid.

Pissed.

His eyes bored into hers with such intensity that she had to look away. She took a deep breath to calm herself as her mind instantly began to formulate her responses, backing away from what her outburst had obviously revealed.

Sweets seemed to have recovered his voice, and with a choking sound managed to gasp out, "You're…you're _WHAT_?"

"Bones…" The low growl of his voice sounded dangerously close to her, the obvious warning in his tone causing her to shudder slightly.

"Wait a minute, did you just say that…that you…and Agent Booth…are sexually…"

"That's none of your damn business Sweets!" Booth was clearly agitated, perched now on the very edge of the couch, his finger pointed at the psychologist. Although Sweets had shown a remarkable amount of bravery during the course of their session thus far, her partner's obviously threatening posture had him shrinking back in his chair.

Nodding her response, she reaffirmed what she had said. "Yes. Although you should know that we aren't anymore, so we really have nothing to talk about."

"See Sweets? Nothing to talk about…wait…what?" Booth's confusion was evident as he looked back to her, his voice lowering in an attempt for some privacy. "What do you mean, we aren't anymore?"

She kept her eyes trained on the psychologist, noting that he was no doubt cataloging every word they said. Instead, she leaned her body slightly in Booth's direction and offered him a clipped response.

"That's right…we aren't anymore."

Straightening back up, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her knee before settling her hands calmly in her lap. To any observer, she would appear to be unruffled, the subject matter equivalent to that of the weather or what to eat for dinner tonight. It was a devastating skill that she possessed; having over the years earned her the reputation of being cold and uncaring. Knowledge was power, and she had learned long ago that allowing anyone to have that kind of power over her was unacceptable.

But inside she was sick to her stomach. A horrible, pulsing ache had settled there and she could barely keep the panic under control. Knowing that she had made a decision to end her physical relationship with Booth was once thing, but actually saying it out loud for him to hear was another thing altogether. There had been no missing the shadow of pain that had briefly flitted across his handsome features before he had regained control of his reaction.

Booth now sat rigidly beside her, the tension in his powerful frame causing the air to vibrate around her. She knew that she wasn't the only one that knew how to bring her emotions to heel. Booth was less adept at hiding it, but just as good at reining them in. Despite that, she knew him and could tell that he was absolutely _furious_.

Sweets had been carefully observing their interaction, and chose to insert a question at that moment.

"Let me get this straight, ok? Just so that we're all on the same page here." He raised his eyebrows at her, seemingly searching for her permission to recap their conversation. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, giving him the go ahead.

"The two of you…" he paused here to make eye contact with both Booth and herself, although her partner seemed hesitant to meet his gaze. He finally glanced at Sweets and waved a hand indicating he should continue before returning his attention to a fixed spot on the opposite wall.

"The two of you have been engaging in a sexual relationship, which has obviously affected your day-to-day interactions, and possibly your partnership as well." He held up a hand as she started to protest. "You apparently have not worked through the issues presented from such a relationship, and now you – Dr. Brennan – tell me that it's over, while Agent Booth seems surprised to hear that."

He studied them one at a time, and she could only hope that he believed her calm demeanor echoed a lack of concern over the subject matter. Booth, on the other hand, sat completely still, the ticking of his jaw a testament to how tightly he had it clenched. His right ankle was crossed over his left knee, and she could see the red, purple, and black of the stripes on his socks as they peeked from beneath the cuff of his pants. One hand was tightly fisted in his lap and the other had a white-knuckled grip on his knee.

She had never seen him so agitated, and it was both concerning and yet compelling at the same time.

"So, it seems that there are some communication issues here." He paused for a moment, staring down at the steeple made by his while he thought of what to say next. It was an uncomfortable silence, and she was starting to feel the intense urge to flee the office and get away as far as she could. Instead of giving in to the almost overwhelming temptation to run, she took a deep breath and made an effort to still the leg that she had begun to bounce up and down impatiently.

Finally, their psychologist continued. "Today has been a difficult session, and while it may not seem like it to you guys, there was some progress in the form of admitting a relationship that surpasses that of just partners or friends. I think that really, that's enough for today."

Both partners visibly relaxed.

"I have just one question to ask each of you, and then we'll be done for now."

Booth tore his eyes away from the wall to look at Sweets suspiciously. "And what's that?" His lips barely moved as he ground the words out from his clenched jaw.

"How exactly would each of you quantify the relationship that you have?"

Booth took a hand and wiped it furiously over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers before looking up at Sweets and holding his hands up in defeat. "I don't know, Sweets. Ok? I don't know."

"An honest answer, Agent Booth. Very good…very good." He turned his attention to her. "And you, Dr. Brennan? How would you quantify the relationship that you have with Agent Booth?"

She hesitated only a moment, recalling their earlier conversation in the truck. "We– well, we _were_ – friends with benefits. But now that…"

"What the _hell_, Bones!" Booth had leaped up from his seat and had turned an angry glare on her. His eyes were practically spitting sparks as he paced behind the couch once before returning to stand next to it, one hand planted on his hip while the other punctuated his words. "How could you even _say_ something like that?"

"Booth…what?" She spun in her seat to face him. "I don't understand why you're so angry! You're the one that used the term to describe us earlier, and I think that by your definition, it's an accurate representation of the relationship we had!"

Sweets chose that moment to interject, attempting to calm the situation before it got even further out of hand. "Ok, I think that's enough for today. Maybe the two of you can spend some time thinking about your answers and next week…"

Their argument was drowning him out, their voices raised over his as they continued to verbally instigate one another.

"I cannot believe that, even coming from _you_! There's no…"

"Coming from _me_? What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

She spared a quick glance at Sweets, having heard what he said despite the man ranting behind her. "I'm unable to make our sessions for the next four weeks, as I'll be out of town. I'm sure that by the time I get back, everything will have returned to normal and there wont be anything we need to talk about."

She dismissed the younger man just as quickly, turning her attention back to her partner who was now standing still, his face a mask of betrayal and anger, hurt and pain. Never in all of the years that she had known him had she ever seen him look at her like this. Booth was a man that was confident, controlled, and always capable in whatever situation he was in. Seeing him standing there with accusation on his face…she had never known that a single look from someone could ever hurt so much.

Over the years, he had looked at her with a vast arrange of expressions. To her mind, no man had ever looked at her the way that he did, and no man's looks had ever had the same effect on her as his did. He had left her feeling warm and cared for, safe and protected. A few of his heated glances had even left her feeling flushed with desire. But this? This look flayed her alive, leaving her raw and bleeding despite her efforts to remain stoic.

She had never thought that she would ever truly fail him.

"Where are you going?" His voice was quiet, on the surface appearing calm but beneath the simply spoken words there was a seething rage.

"Africa."

He kept her trapped with his eyes, in the same manner that a doe becomes mesmerized by the glare of oncoming headlights. She felt incapable of turning away or of moving beyond harms reach. All she could do was answer his question.

"Don't you think that's something that you should have shared with your _partner_?" His emphasis on the last work caused her to recoil slightly.

Her only answer this time was silence.

Sweets interjected, his voice nearly as unwelcome as the uncomfortable accusations in the air. "Do you guys even talk about _anything_ anymore?"

The void between Booth and herself seemed to widen even more, and she was left wondering how in the world they would ever span such a tremendous gap.

Booth seemed to come to some decision and he suddenly spun around on his heel. "This is bullshit." Just before he opened the door, he released some of the spring-loaded tension from his body, reaching his arm back before slamming his fist into the wall beside the doorframe. He didn't even slow his step as plaster and paint crumpled beneath his fury and fell to the ground, leaving a large hole behind. With his other hand, he yanked the door open, slamming it shut behind him as he left.

Neither she nor Sweets said anything as the echoing vibrations of Booth's wrath slowly faded from the room. She felt numb…stunned. Her mind began the automatic process of cataloging her partner's potential injuries, although he thankfully hadn't hit a stud. Words and definitions like boxer's fracture and metacarpal neck barely registered.

She slowly sank back down into her seat, trying desperately to regain her outward sense of calm. She felt as though she was going to be sick, her gut churning now with adrenaline. Rarely in her life had she ever felt as exposed as she did now. Sweets had witnessed her emotional breakdown, and now she couldn't even begin to figure out how to repair the damage done.

It was an odd feeling – being embarrassed over their behavior. She wasn't one to often feel ashamed for any of her actions, and yet here she was. Shocked, numb, sickened, and ashamed.

Finally, she simply gave up and lifted her eyes to see that Sweets was watching her. She found no accusation there, and if she could consider herself a better judge of facial expressions, she would say that he even appeared sympathetic. Once again, the words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

"I'm sorry Sweets."

For what, specifically, she didn't know. She just…was. Sorry for their argument, sorry that Booth couldn't control his physical rage, sorry that she had somehow brought them to this place to begin with. If she could have only stayed away from him…

"Me too, Dr. Brennan…Me too."

* * *

_**Oh No!! "Gryph!" you say. "I can't take the crazy angst monster anymore! Where's the romance and the BBing and the nekkidness?!" **_

_**Never fear - I wont disappoint, I promise.**_

_**I never ask for reviews. I feel like you'll leave one or you wont, but this chapter was a beast and it was very difficult for me as a writer, so please...take just a moment to tell me that you thought it was awesome! (Well, you know...unless you just HAVE to leave something critical...which I hope you don't! ;-)**_


	4. Edge of Love

_Hi guys! A HUGE thank you to everyone that PM'd me and asked where the heck the next chapter was. It really got me going! I went through a serious dry spell, but we're cookin' now baby! YEAH! _

_Also, I have joined forces with many of the wonderful people in the Bones fandom to create a podcast show that will add an incredible new dynamic to the way that fic authors and readers interact. We're going to be reviewing and rating stories, awarding top honors, and reading/recording the winners to be aired in weekly podcast episodes. We'll also be doing a lot more than this, including spoiler chat, community news, pictures, episode reviews, interviews...the list is huge and its still in the baby phase of development! Seriously though, its going to be amazing. We need your help though! PM me or include it in your review (or come see me over on LiveJournal - link in profile) and let me know if you'd like to help out or want some more information. In the meantime, you can visit our website at .com Think of it as the CNN of the Bones Community. (Not just the show, but the actual community.) I'm so excited!_

_Without further ado..._

* * *

The ride back to the Jeffersonian was alive with the heavy hum of tension and disquiet. She felt so completely out of her element that she found herself simply looking out the window as Booth drove, the thick wall of separation between them seemingly insurmountable to her.

In truth, she had been surprised that he had waited for her. It had been a full fifteen minutes after his angry exit from Sweets' office that she had finally followed. He had been so upset that she had assumed that he had left without her. She had walked out of the building, cell phone in hand to call a cab, and had seen him there leaning against the grill of the Tahoe. His face had been unreadable as she approached, his eyes hidden once again behind his sunglasses.

"I didn't think you'd still be here."

"I wouldn't just leave you."

They had gotten in the truck with nothing else said between them.

She wanted to talk to him, but she didn't know how. This was Booth's territory, and she had found herself hesitant to speak. She didn't want to start another fight with him, and he wasn't talking either. Several times she had opened her mouth to say something, only to close it and turn back to distractedly peruse the passing inner city landscape. They didn't have far to drive, but there was a light out on Constitution at First that was slowing the late morning commute. The added strain of the stop and go congestion was causing the mood in the car to become further stressed, making the already difficult silence border on unbearable. Something was going to have to give, and just as they crossed through the intersection and passed the Taft Memorial, she felt a subtle shift in the emotional atmosphere.

The space between them seemed to be suddenly filled with sadness; an echo of things unsaid and promises broken. The anger from before was slowly dissipating and left her feeling precariously balanced at the tip of an enormous precipice. She wanted so desperately to reach out for something solid that would prevent her from falling into the dark abyss below – but there was nothing but air to meet her grasping hands. By the time that Booth turned left onto Ninth, the feeling had permeated the atmosphere, practically dripping from the interior surfaces of the vehicle.

As he pulled into the Jeffersonian parking lot and nudged the vehicle up to the sidewalk, she twisted to unlock her seatbelt and was startled when he suddenly spoke. The softly resigned cadence of his voice sounded like a gavel strike in the empty space between them.

"We don't really talk anymore, do we Bones?"

It was a question, but his tone made it sound more like a statement of fact. He already knew the answer. He turned to look at her and she found herself wishing that he would just take off the glasses so that she could see his eyes. For some reason, she felt at a disadvantage with his face hidden from her. Carefully, she considered her answer. Lately, it seemed as if her responses were all wrong. Her automatic answer would be that they talk all of the time. Maybe not so much in the past few days, being that there hadn't been a case to work on. But certainly they communicated on a fairly regular basis. No – it was more likely that he was referring to a more intimate exchange. She felt a wave of intense regret wash over her as she realized that while they had now shared their physical selves, they no longer maintained a verbal friendship. How could two people be so close and yet so distant from one another?

"No Booth…I guess we don't."

The quiet between them intensified the sadness until it was bordering on grief. While they regarded one another, she could feel a sharp tug in her chest as she looked at him. Grief really wasn't too strong a word for the uncontainable emotion that was thundering through her. This man meant so much to her, and it was alarming how easily she had allowed things to get out of control between them. She could feel an almost palpable craving to get things back to normal – to somehow bridge the gap that had formed between them. She had dealt with many disappointments in life, some of which had left lasting scars etched into her subconscious. Each one had taken its own toll from her. But she knew, no matter how irrational, that she could not let Booth be one of those casualties in her life. He was vital to her in a way that she didn't fully comprehend. And it was because of this that she needed some distance – some perspective in which to get her bearings and formulate a plan to stabilize their relationship before it was too late.

"I miss it – our talks." He paused once more before deciding to press on. "I miss _us_."

The way that his voice cracked slightly on the word _us_ caused the discomfort in her chest to triple. It felt as if a vice was gripping her heart, preventing the muscle from circulating oxygen through her body. She knew exactly what he was saying, and she desperately wanted to make him see that she understood. She may not know how they got here or where to go now, but she was experiencing the same desperate emotion that was clawing its way up her throat. Her voice sounded choked as she replied.

"Me too, Booth."

The cab once again descended into silence, neither partner really knowing what to do or say next. Booth looked as though he wanted to say more, but he remained quiet, his unreadable expression giving her no clues to his thoughts. Every fiber of her being was crying out for her to somehow offer him some measure of comfort. While she didn't completely understand what had gone wrong, she certainly felt somehow responsible. It had been apparent during their session with Sweets that she had hurt him, although it had never been her intention.

She had learned in the past – not so long ago, when they were just Booth and Brennan, friends and partners – that it was the little touches that truly showed that you cared. Booth had taught her that. These simple points of contact had been second nature to them until comforting had turned into passion. She was afraid to touch him now because she was afraid that she wasn't able to control herself once she got that close; once she felt his skin beneath hers, the intimate brush of his jaw along her temple, or the slight curl of his fingers over hers. Such basic touches had taken on a whole new meaning between them.

He was staring stonily through the front window and her body ached with the need to lean into him; to somehow lessen the burden that she had carelessly heaped upon him. She fought the desire with what determination she had left, fearful that any comfort she might attempt would be poorly received now.

Her resolve only lasted as long as it took him to remove his sunglasses and turn his head toward her. At last, she could see his eyes and the turmoil she found there was enough to spur her into action.

Before she could begin to talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms softly around his shoulders. She questioned whether it had been the right thing to do as she felt his body tense against hers. But she was determined and pressed her cheek up against his where she whispered a fervent "I'm sorry" before reluctantly unfolding him from her embrace. Her body practically sang from even such a brief exchange, and she was loath to relinquish the contact. Booth had yet to respond to her, and in truth, she didn't blame him. Whatever was wrong with them certainly couldn't be fixed with a simple hug.

Just as she went to release him, he whispered her name; the sound like that of a dying man in the desert. She felt his arms rise up to tighten around her; twin bands of steel as he gasped out another ragged "Bones" before burying his face in her neck. With a small sigh of surrender, she relaxed her body into his, grateful for the solid strength of him pressed against her. She allowed her head to slip forward and rest gently on his shoulder – a place that had often caused her to marvel at its seemingly perfect fit for her. In the past, she had done a quick calculation of bone structure and height differences, gender specific qualities and body physique, and rationally come to the conclusion that their respective forms were quite complimentary. But right now, here in this place where she was so afraid that she was losing him somehow, she just felt that he was a perfect resting place for her.

And that thought was terrifying.

Within her, the empirical belief that nothing was permanent warred with her heart's greatest desire for this man to never leave. She couldn't reconcile the two opposing forces, and the conflict was threatening to tear her apart. She couldn't think with him near her, she couldn't process her next step. But she also was incapable of doing anything in this moment beyond pulling him to her and holding on for what felt like dear life. She wanted to crawl inside of him and take up residence far from the harsh realities of real life; away from a place of temporary satisfactions and into his world of eternal and transcendent.

"Bones"

He whispered her name again, this time almost as a prayer – soft and reverent – before he turned his head and caught her mouth with his. The rational part of her brain fought for control, crying out that this was not the path back to independence. But the warm caress of his tongue against hers caused all thought to flee, leaving behind only sensation upon sensation; each new wave cresting high over her head before crashing down to erode her will. She clutched at him, snaking her hands up under his suit jacket to roam feverishly across his back. She pressed her palms against the musculature found there and relished in the tight flexing of his body as it responded to their kiss.

He was everywhere – all around her and towering over her in the small confines of the vehicle. She inwardly cursed the middle console that was preventing her from sliding across the seat to him. They collided again and again, neither really able to say who was doing the pushing and pulling. If she had ever been the type to subscribe to the idea of fate, then she would have certainly described this moment as fated. There was the sharp ring of inevitability in her ears and the desperate ache of need in her chest.

"You can't tell me…You can't tell me that there isn't _more_ to us." Booth gasped out his words in between punctuating kisses. "You can't sit here and feel _this_ and tell me that it's just…biology."

His use of the word "more" penetrated her foggy brain, causing her to freeze against him. Reality came swarming back over her like a cloud of locusts; its presence eating away everything tender and green to leave behind only ashes and dirt. More. They could never have more. Life had taught her a hard-earned lesson about _more_.

It always led to _less_.

She stifled a gasp against his shoulder before she jerked back from him, reaching frantically for the door handle. She could never have more of Seeley Booth, because she could never bear having _less_ of him. No matter how long more lasted for…inevitably less would follow. When things cooled down, when emotion ran dry, when ardor became boredom…she would be left with the husk of what they had once been. And that was unacceptable.

"I have to go."

"Bones…Temperance…"

But she had opened the door and slipped out onto the sidewalk, determined to get away despite the anguished look on his face. She noted with a sense of irony that she had just been making out with her partner in the car in front of the Jeffersonian. She had kissed him in a public place without any thought to consequence or modesty. All that had mattered in that moment was him.

What if it was always going to be him?

Keeping her eyes focused ahead, she took the stairs two at a time. She was a woman that never looked back.

No matter how hard it was.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

He didn't know why he thought she might look back. Bones was not the type to turn around for one last long look.

Still, he watched her walk away, his breath held until he saw the door close behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, his posture collapsed and he rested his head against the steering wheel. He heaved in a deep breath and sat in silence, urging his heart to stop racing.

This was so much harder than he had ever anticipated.

When she had first come to him, he had known that things were changing for them. He had told himself that they never did anything the conventional way, so why should this be any different? He would allow her to put the cart before the proverbial horse in hopes that she could still find her way to the same place where he was; a place where she would be ready to take the next step with him. He had known that it would be hard, and that she wouldn't surrender willingly.

What he had never foreseen was that he would have his heart broken over and over again.

When they had started…_whatever_ they had started, he had been certain that it was only a matter of time. But now he couldn't help but feel like there was some key piece of information that he just wasn't getting. He knew that there was more to the attraction between them than she wanted to admit, and he was even willing to bet that she knew it too. Yet whenever he thought he was getting closer, she would pull away. It was a dizzying, terrifying, heart-wrenching teeter totter of emotions, and he didn't know if he had the stamina to stay on the ride. For the first time in a long time, he doubted his instincts. Was it possible that he was wrong about what she felt for him?

He picked up a hand and constricted into a fist before bringing it down on the steering wheel in frustration. Of all the women that he had met over the years - of all the flirtatious smiles, innuendos, and outright propositions – he had to fall in love with this one. The most obstinate, difficult, and confusing woman on the face of the earth.

He picked up his sunglasses and slid them back over his eyes. He had entered into this thing with a goal in mind, and he'd attacked it with a fierce determination that even his stubborn partner couldn't quell. Admittedly he was wearing thin, even to the point of losing his cool back at Sweets' office. But now she was leaving in three days to go dig up dead things in Africa and he was running out of time. He needed to rally the troops for one last push.

So as he pulled the truck away from the curb, he began formulating his next move.

* * *

**_Reviews might get you chapter 5 MUCH sooner - being that I'm on a roll! Help me stay that way and send me some feedback. Have I mentioned how much I love you all lately??? =)_**


	5. Battlefield

_**Yay! Nothing like a new season and a new laptop to get the creative flow going once again! A lot of you know that my computer went belly up about 2 months ago AND that I am now pregnant with baby number three. The lack of computer mixed with the intense nausea...ugh!! You guys have all been so patient waiting for this next installment and I really hope that it was worth the wait. For all of the encouragement, well wishes, and warm thoughts...I thank each and every one of you.  
**_

**Chapter 5 - Battlefield**

He was waiting quietly in the darkness of her empty apartment; senses fully alert and ready to pick up the slightest hint of her return. This hadn't been his Plan A…it hadn't even been Plan B. But it was now Thursday night and he knew that she would be leaving tomorrow morning. She really hadn't left him any other options. With no case to work together and her seemingly purposeful avoidance of his calls…well, a man could only take so much before he needed to take matters firmly into his hands.

The soft tick of her living room wall clock and the occasional hum of the refrigerator had been the only sounds in the apartment since his arrival over an hour ago. With her leaving in the morning, he had thought to catch her here at home. He'd been a bit put off when he discovered that she was out, but it had worked to his advantage. Now he would have the upper hand when she got home - the element of surprise. She wouldn't have time to formulate a rehearsed reaction, and if he played his cards well, then he might even be able to get a genuine response from her.

And so he waited…

**********

She was tired.

Mentally, physically, emotionally…she felt drained from everything that had happened this last week. Her whirlwind trip plans had elevated the level of intensity at work as she scrambled to get things done before she left, and her only relief came from the blessed absence of FBI case work. That combined with the problem that she only allowed herself to refer to as "Booth", and it was no wonder that she felt exhausted. As she opened the door to her apartment the only thought on her mind was that she was going to crawl into bed and sleep until she had to get up and head to the airport. Turning to flip the light switch just inside the door, she let out a startled gasp as a voice came out of the darkness.

"Don't."

Whirling to face her intruder, and preparing to defend herself as necessary, she was shocked to see Booth rising from a chair in her living room.

"Leave it off."

Her body had instantly responded to the perceived threat with an intense jolt of adrenaline, and as he walked closer toward her, she could feel the effects it was having. Her heart was pounding and her hands felt shaky. The discovery of who owned the voice should have helped to alleviate some of the symptoms, but as he approached, she found that they became more pronounced. Booth was emanating a dangerous quality that her senses were keenly attuned to and when he stopped just short of her, she found her nostrils flaring slightly as she breathed in the scent of him.

"Booth…what are you doing here?"

She sounded scared, her voice cracking slightly in the dim space between them. If she thought that he might give her room to recover after such an obvious shock, then she was wrong. He took the opportunity to lean into her, causing her to stumble backwards into the door that had swung shut behind her. His body followed until she felt his thighs brush against hers. Booth brought one hand up and leaned it against the door, effectively preventing her escape. He ran his other hand tenderly along her jaw, pausing to finger a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear.

His voice rumbled intimately against her body.

"You didn't leave me any choice." He continued trailing his hand across her skin. "You wont return my phone calls."

She was fighting the undeniable urge to lean into his touch. It was true…she had been avoiding him. At the same time, she found herself longing for him every day. Her head and her heart were in a constant battle for supremacy, and at this moment she was having a hard time calling logic to the forefront. A shiver shook violently through her at the sliding feel of his fingers on her neck and collarbone, and despite her effort to hide the effect he was having on her, she was certain that he noticed.

"I'm very…"

She couldn't help the sigh that escaped as his thumb brushed along her lower lip.

"…very busy…Booth…"

She tried to summon a tone that would gain no argument from him, but the effort was without any real substance. She seemed unable to speak without pausing to hitch air into her lungs, and she silently cursed her traitorous body.

"With all the wrong things, Temperance." He pressed his body closer to hers, his obvious arousal nestling into her hips. "I can think of much better ways to keep you busy…"

She reached up in a half-hearted attempt to push him away, her hands pressing feebly against his chest. Was he always this solid? Or was this the Booth that he kept in check most of the time? At any other time she would have felt that this man could pose no serious threat to her, but facing him here in the dark – her back against the wall and his breath hot on her cheek – she realized that for all her physical prowess, she was powerless against him. She struggled to find an excuse that would allow her to free herself from him, despite the fact that a part of her wanted nothing more than to remain trapped here against his solid presence.

"I have to…pack…"

"Is that so?" She followed the path of his eyes as they came to rest on the two suitcases standing like neat little soldiers by the door.

"I have more to do still."

But the lie rang hollowly, and she knew that she was caught. He hadn't waited for her response, and was already popping the buttons on her shirt. As he continued to talk to her, he punctuated his words with the slow slip of each disc through its eyelet.

"You're running off…"

The first two buttons gave way and exposed a strip of flesh just above the tops of her jeans.

"You're trying to forget what's between us…"

Another pair relinquished their places beneath his skilled fingers, leaving a long line of skin for him to run the backs of his knuckles across.

"But I'm going to make sure tonight…"

Her chest was heaving as the last couple of buttons slipped away.

"That you wont _ever…_ be able to forget."

He was an immovable force in the face of her protests, and she could feel herself relinquishing. When it came to Booth, she needed to prepare her defenses – to be ready for any attack that he might launch. His sudden approach in the darkness of her living room had left her reeling, unable to get her feet firmly planted beneath her where they were so desperately needed. Her protests were going unheeded, and to even her own ears they sounded feeble at best. This felt like war, and she had been ambushed by the enemy.

_The enemy?_

If he was the opposition, and this was the assault, then surrender had never looked so appealing.

"Booth…I don't think that…we…"

The rest of her protest was swallowed by his mouth as he pressed his lips to hers, his tongue sweeping hotly past her teeth. Her back arched instinctively away from the door, causing her hips to slide against him. The sweet agony the contact immediately created was heavy and pulsing at her core as her body easily persuaded her mind to do what it was already considering…_giving in_.

He must have sensed that the decision had been made, because he surged toward her, pressing his entire body harder against hers. The added pressure forced her back against the door again, trapping her even tighter between the smooth hardwood behind her, and the hot steel that was Booth in front of her. Her hands shot out to struggle frantically with his belt buckle, an eternity passing before she felt it fall away to grant access to the button beneath. He was making it infinitely more difficult with the random grinding of his pelvis against the soft skin of her lower belly.

Their breaths came in panting sobs, both of them given over to a need that was barely contained on a daily basis. She considered herself a woman that appreciated raw passion in the bedroom, but this went beyond anything she had experienced before. It was fervent and furious, hot and hard. And yet beneath it all - hidden away somewhere - was the distinct hint of desperation. As she threw her head back to allow him easier access to her neck, she barely registered the solid smack of the door against her skull. The only sensations she was aware of were the ones that he was creating. The press of his hard length at the apex of her thighs. His hand beneath her open shirt, gently running a finger along the dip beneath her right breast. His mouth sucking hotly just below her ear. These were the experiences that were consuming her in this moment.

She was lost, and a swift bolt of realization swept through her…she didn't want to be found.

**********

What little bit of reason he still possessed was inwardly cursing him for his lack of control. This had _not_ been the plan. Of course he had intended to seduce her, but it was supposed to be in a manner that would show her that he was more to her than she allowed herself to believe. He had planned on making love to her, taking his time with every inch of her body. He had imagined lingering kisses, smoldering glances, his body sliding along her flesh as he worshipped every inch of her. He had even contemplated, in that moment when he would finally join himself with her, that he would tell her that he loved her. That he would always love her. And just maybe her eyes would shine up at him and he would see it there and he would know that the battle had been won and he was that much closer to winning the war.

But then she had come through the door, and looked at him with a slight tremble of fear. She had turned up her face and spoken in that haughty tone that she used when she was trying to get her way. And for some reason, her continued effort to resist him had woken a beast in him that he normally kept a very firm leash on. She truly thought that she could remain in control of the situation, that he was someone that she could resist. He was going to teach her a lesson tonight, but it might not be the one that he had intended.

He felt the button on his jeans finally pop and then her slender hands were pressing at the material, attempting to jerk them down over his hips. They gave way beneath her persistence and he kicked them to the side as they fell around his ankles. The agony of wanting to press himself into her was driving him crazy, and so he picked her up, his hands sliding around the perfect globes of her ass. With an incredible sense of satisfaction, he felt her legs instantly twine around him and he wasted no time in pulling her hard against his straining arousal. He was going out of his mind with wanting her, and if the little mewls of pleasure she was making were any indication – the feeling was mutual.

He swung her around and strode quickly to her bedroom where he pushed the door open with so much force that it bounced heavily against the wall behind it. With one hand, he held her clasped against him while the other guided them back onto her bed. As soon as she was supported by the mattress beneath, he let her go and moved his hands to her waist. He made no time at all with her jeans – the ones that drove him to distraction whenever she wore them. He couldn't even count the number of times that he had imagined peeling the skintight dark denim back to expose the soft white skin of her thighs. And now the reality of it was far eclipsing any fantasy that he had ever had.

The sight of her lying on her back, chest heaving and face flushed, as she watched him remove her jeans was enough to slow him down a bit. This was a moment to relish. Every inch of her legs that were revealed looked like another glimpse into heaven, and he couldn't stop himself from pressing kisses to the tops of her thighs, her knees, the inside of her ankles. He was at a feast of creamy perfection and there was no denying himself.

He removed her socks and shoes along with her jeans and then slowly licked and kissed his way back up her legs. He had never considered himself a leg man in the past, but that was before he had experienced the wonder that was Temperance Brennan. Her legs were twin ivory ladders that came together in the secret juncture of her body, and he was climbing them one step at a time.

This had most certainly not been his intention. But this experience was taking on a mind of its own, and as he saw her body strain and reach for him, her back coming away from the mattress, he knew what she wanted and he was more than happy to oblige her.

**********

She could feel his breath against the cool skin of her legs, the sweep of his tongue and the press of his lips as he kissed his way higher. It wasn't a conscious thought on her part, but she knew that her body wanted his head to move higher. Against her will she arched her hips toward him, silently begging him to continue his upward path. She had never, _ever_ wanted anything so badly in her entire life, and when he pulled away from her, she couldn't contain the small cry that escaped her lips. She was lifting herself on her elbows to see where he had gone when he returned to her legs, this time with his shirt off.

She had left her bedside table lamp on in an effort to deter would-be thieves while she was out, and she was grateful for it now. Its soft glow illuminated the hard planes and dips of Booth's chest, and she couldn't resist running her foot along the soft skin of his shoulder as he bent to press another kiss to her ankle. She made a valiant attempt to continue to watch him and his beautiful body, but her head fell back limply against the mattress as his mouth once again began to travel the length of her legs.

She felt him on the inside of her thigh, breathing against the tender skin there. She tried to twist her hips slightly, but he evaded her – instead moving to the softness of her lower belly. As he kissed her stomach, she suddenly felt his hand ghost over the place she wanted him most, and it coaxed an instant moan from her mouth. Her fists were bunching the comforter on each side of her in an attempt to resist the urge to reach down and guide his head to its destination. He was kissing her again, this time just over the band of her soft pink cotton panties.

"Oh god…please…Booth…please…"

She was delirious with desire, her body held rigidly in an agonizing wait for him to touch her. She knew that she was babbling, begging him for something that she did not normally enjoy other men doing. She was throbbing with an ache so intense that it bordered on torturous. The most exquisite form of torture that she had ever experienced.

When the moment came that she wanted so badly, it almost put her over the edge right there. She uttered a long and low moan as she felt him open his mouth and then slowly close it, dragging his teeth gently along the length of her. The friction it created with just her panties as a barrier caused the ache to turn into a tight coil that barely managed to remain firmly wound. He continued giving her the lightest of caresses, using just the tip of his tongue to tease and stroke her through the fabric. Before long, her head was tossing and turning, and she was once again begging him for more.

With a sharp nip, he reached up and grasped the hem of her panties, and she needed no encouragement to lift her hips and allow him to slide them from her body. She thought he would once again take his time making his way back up her legs, and cried out sharply when he immediately returned his tongue to her, this time with a hard suck that had her seeing stars behind her closed lids. His mouth was driving her wild, and her hips were bucking off of the mattress in an attempt to establish a rhythm that would allow her the release she craved.

"Yessss….god….yes…"

He slipped his tongue into her and she was crying, riding the wave to its crest…so close…so close…

And then he was gone, moving his body up hers and leaving her crying with frustration. She caught the look on his face and his eyes glittered with a dark sort of danger that she had never seen before. Backing up beneath his intense approach, she moved her body up the bed. When she felt the pillows at her back, she reached up and shrugged out of her shirt and then unclasped her bra. Watching him closely, she let that last piece of clothing slip away.

She was not a shy woman, and in fact was quite aware that she possessed a beautiful form. But for some reason, she felt an irrational need to know that this man was pleased with what he saw. With a slow and deliberate movement, she laid her body back against the pillows, stretching her arms up over her head and allowing her legs to part slightly. She was completely naked, and completely exposed. Why did she feel like it was more than just her body that she was offering?

**********

He was dangerously close to just taking her, thrusting himself into her body again and again until he was swallowed up by her. He wanted relief so badly that it was physically paining him. She had begged him.

_Begged him_.

And she had cried out and her body had been writhing on the bed because of what he was doing to her. It was an absolute intoxicating combination, the heady sense of power that he had combined with the erotic noises spilling from her lips. And now she was stretched out before him, all soft and peach, ripe for him to have her. And the only thing that stopped him from burying himself hotly inside her was the self conscious look she was giving him right now. Never had he ever seen this woman look uncertain about herself in this way, and it humbled him.

He paused by her feet, slowing his accent towards her. Did she really have no idea how she looked to him?

"Bones…you are…"

He could feel his throat getting choked with emotion, making it harder to say the words.

"You are so beautiful…"

It must have been the right thing to say, because a shy smile bloomed on her lips and she reached her arms out for him. He was only too happy to oblige and sank willingly into her embrace. His words had changed the tone between them, and now as he kissed her, there was a hard knot in his chest that was pressing at his throat. The words were right there, and he desperately wanted to unleash them for her to hear. His heart was heavy laden with the burden of keeping it to himself, and right now, he wanted her to _know_.

Her legs had drawn back in invitation, and he was bumping up against her slick heat. Everything was overwhelming in that moment, and he felt himself losing control. He couldn't control his mouth and he couldn't control his hips as they pressed forward, seeking entrance into her body.

"Temperance…"

He sighed her name just as he felt her engulf the length of him, sinking deeply into her until he couldn't tell where he ended and she began. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes at the feeling of being home…of being _complete_…

It took no conscious thought on his part to begin to move with her, her small cries and gasps mingling with words that began pouring from his mouth, unheeded in the heat of the moment.

"You know that…oh god…Bones…I love you…so much…you have to know that…"

If she heard what he said, she gave no indication. And truthfully, the sweet ache in his belly was causing a thundering in his ears that caused any words that she might have said to be lost in the moment. Her hips rose quicker to meet his, and the rhythm became more urgent and intense. Whatever coherent thoughts that he had turned into mindless gasps of pleasure as he thrust forward again and again. He was approaching the breaking point, the hot curl of his release rushing upwards through his body. He gratefully registered the sounds of her keening just as he felt her body convulse firmly around him. With a groan of relief, he let himself go, spilling what felt like his very soul from within him.

Their breaths mingled in the quiet as they each fought to regain a sense of perspective, their foreheads resting softly against one another. He felt as though he had been transported somewhere foreign, and he now didn't know how to get back to where he used to be. And truthfully, he didn't even know that he wanted to get back. Tonight had changed him.

It had changed _them_.

But what would that look like? The thought was both terrifying and liberating. Where did they go from here?

After a few moments, he quietly slipped from her and rolled to his side, gathering her carefully in his arms. He was surprised that she came so willingly, and was dying to know what she was thinking, but he chose to instead simply enjoy the gift of getting to hold her. He tucked her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. Although she said nothing, he felt the tension as it slowly returned to her body. It came first to her neck and back, causing her to pull away ever so slightly. Her legs seemed to tighten and prepare to lift her away from his embrace.

Tightening his grip on her, he chose to speak.

"Bones…I know you are hoping that I'll get up and go now…"

He pressed another kiss to her, this time on her cheek. Her silence was enough to confirm his thoughts.

"But I think that maybe…just maybe…a small part of you wants me to stay."

When she continued to remain quiet, he was encouraged to go on.

"Let me stay…let me…_us_…have this…just for tonight. We'll get up in the morning and I'll take you to the airport. But for right now, let's just…_be_ together."

He was holding his breath, his heart thumping in his chest in anticipation of her answer. What was in fact only a few short moments seemed like forever, but he eventually felt her body relax back against his once more. She didn't say anything, and he didn't need her to. This was enough.

For tonight…this was enough.

* * *

_**You know those dreams where you are standing naked in front of the class? Yeah? Well, writing chapters like this is kinda like that. You feel very...exposed! I hope that it came across the way I intended and that you enjoyed reading it. **_

_**Let me know!!**_


	6. Farewell

_Finally! Chapter 6! A big thank you to **hpaich** for looking over this one for me and pointing out a few things that I didn't see. And a HUGE thanks to all of you that bugged me to get this done!! _

_Just an extra note - the title for this chapter is the **Rosie Thomas** song **Farewell**. I don't usually say this, but I highly encourage you to listen. Its so amazingly beautiful..._

* * *

Brennan heaved a silent sigh of relief as she felt the plane jolt slightly beneath her as it was pushed backwards to begin it's taxied journey to the runway. It was like she herself was being disconnected from life here in DC, and like the plane, she was now free to disembark this place. She felt a small thrill at the thought of the next four weeks being spent in her element, with no expectations of her other than to perform her job. This was what she loved, and although her work at the Jeffersonian was in no way unfulfilling, it was starting to feel just a little bit...suffocating.

She reached above her head to adjust the flow of cool air pointed in her direction, suddenly feeling that she was overheating, even though her first class plane seat was more than accommodating. Her hands felt restless in her lap, and it was tempting to reach for the book that she had packed for the flight. Sighing, she leant her head against the window. The plane wasn't even in the air yet, so it was a little too soon to start a book that she hoped would last her until at least her connecting flight in London where she could purchase another if needed. The flight attendants were going through the pre-flight safety routine, but she certainly flew often enough for the information to be repetitive. Without anything to occupy her thoughts, she found them wandering in the very direction she hoped to avoid.

Booth.

Unbidden, thoughts of last night and this morning blossomed in her memory. Her skin flushed warmly in response, seemingly oblivious to the cool air flow. She knew that it would have to be thought of – sorted out and catalogued. She had even planned on spending a portion of her flight doing just that, so that her mind could be clear of encumbrances once she reached her destination. But the thoughts that were pressing on her now were not the benign and careful considerations that she had intended. They were heated emotional memories that caused her chest to tighten abnormally as she looked out the window and thought about the man she was leaving behind.

Without fully realizing what she was doing, her fingertips rose to the window, where they pressed delicately against the acrylic pane. He was out there somewhere, maybe even waiting to see her plane rise into the air and head away…away from him. It was ridiculous, but she found her eyes scanning the area just looking for the familiar shape of his body or even the Tahoe. She knew he wasn't allowed passed security without a ticket, but Booth had a way of always completely surprising her. After a briefly indulgent moment, she let her fingers slip back into her lap while realizing the irrational aspect of such a silly act. There was nothing to see beyond the regular workings of busy airport runways.

She felt the jets rumble to life behind her, getting louder and louder as they powered up for takeoff. The plane began moving forward, building momentum very quickly. This was her favorite part of flying. She loved the feeling of the plane as it propelled itself down the runway, pressing its occupants into their seats. It was such a thrill to experience such raw mechanical power, and while her scientific mind understood what was going on, she couldn't quite stop herself from peering out the window and enjoying the feeling of her stomach doing a small flip-flop as the aircraft left the security of solid ground behind.

After watching the airport and surrounding city slowly disappear from view, Brennan leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She was free. Totally free with four whole weeks of doing what she loved ahead of her. So why did she suddenly feel an insane desire to beg the captain to turn back and let her go home? Why did it feel as though tears were hovering at the corners of her eyes, just waiting for the blink that would send them sliding down her cheeks?

Her thoughts returned once again to the emotionally charged ones of before. Last night had been…she didn't even know what words to pull from her vast vocabulary in order to describe it. She felt as though she had lost something to him, but she wasn't sure what it was or if she even wanted to get it back. It had been a night full of surprises, beginning with his quiet command coming to her in the dark of her living room, and ending with the shock of sleep coming so easily to her as she lay in his arms. It had felt as though she had barely relaxed against him before she was feeling the soft press of his lips against her shoulder along with his whispers that it was time to get up.

Having him there hadn't been nearly as difficult as she had thought it would be. It had its awkward moments, but it had mostly just felt…normal. He had fit into her morning with ease, making her a small breakfast and brewing a pot of coffee while she had been in the shower. And for some reason that she couldn't even begin to understand, the fact that he maintained a normal distance from her had her wanting to pull his mouth to hers and completely forget her impending flight. He'd helped her check that everything was ready in her apartment for its occupant to be gone for a while, and with a promise that he'd stop in and check on things once in a while, they had left.

"Would you care for something to drink?" Her thoughts suddenly interrupted, she looked up with a start at the flight attendant who was smiling down at her from the front of a beverage cart.

"Um, yes. I'd like a cranberry juice please." She lowered the tray in front of her to accommodate the small glass and napkin that was then placed there. She took a small sip, welcoming the cool taste of the juice into her unusually warm body. The thought of what had come next had her face flushing in remembrance.

The ride to the airport had been quiet. It could have passed for any of their previous trips in the truck together when they had both been lost in thought, except for the fact that he had reached across the console and took her hand as soon as they had pulled away from her building. He hadn't let go until he was stepping out of the vehicle to help her with her bags.

She had been adamant that they say their goodbyes at the arrival drop-off instead of letting him park and come in with her. It was windy and noisy with the coming and going of other cars, the bustle of travelers that were saying goodbye to family or friends and heading in to catch their flights, and the occasional horn that sounded in irritation as cars vied for a spot at the curb. He had pulled her two suitcases out of the trunk for her, and she had her carry-on already slung over her shoulder when she had turned to him to say goodbye.

She could vividly recall the look of pain on his face as he had stood there and listened to her short speech about being back in a month and how she'd see him later. She had held herself aloof from him, with her suitcases between them in order to discourage any close contact. He had cleared his throat in what looked like an effort to control his emotions and uttered a soft "Goodbye Bones. Be safe." With a small nod of her head, she'd picked up her luggage and headed though the doors leading into the terminal.

But it had felt like each step of her feet became heavier and heavier, pulling her heart down towards the floor. Four weeks. It would be four weeks until she would see him again. And if things would be the way she was planning for them to be, then this was her last chance. It was now or never.

Without even realizing what she was doing, she had spun around and was running back outside. He was just getting back into the truck when she exited the door, and she was calling his name to get his attention. Nothing else mattered right then and there except reaching him, and for one terrifying moment she had thought that he wasn't going to hear her – that he was going to get into the Tahoe and pull away from the curb without seeing her frantic attempt to get to him. She dropped her bags carelessly on the sidewalk and called his name again as she approached the curb. The noise of the busy drop-off seemed to drown out her voice, making her feel like she was going to be too late. But to her immense relief, at the last moment, he had looked up. There had barely been enough time for her to register that his face looked as desperate as she felt before he was catching her in his arms and she was crushing her lips to his. She kissed him as if it would be for the very last time, suddenly beyond herself at the thought of that being true. She hadn't wanted to let him go – not now and not ever.

If Booth hadn't eventually reminded her that she would miss her plane if she didn't get going, she would have been able to completely forget where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. He had put his arms around her and hugged her fiercely to him while he spoke in urgent tones in her ear. Even now, far from him as she sat in her seat on the plane, she could still feel her skin burn where his words had landed on it.

"I know what you're doing, Temperance. I know that you think that you can leave for a while and come back with some kind of newly found resolve. But let me tell you something…" As he said that, he had pulled her back to look directly into his eyes. "…it doesn't matter how far away you are, or how long you'll be gone. I will _never_ stop loving you. And no matter what you do, that's the man you'll be coming back to. Your leaving isn't going to change anything."

She had placed her hand on his cheek and looked at him with all of the heartache she was feeling. "It has to." With a quick kiss and a whispered "Bye, Booth" she had turned and run back inside.

With a concerted effort and a small sigh, she returned her mind to the present. They had reached cruising altitude and the fasten seatbelt sign had just been turned off. One of the flight attendants was announcing the in-flight movie that would begin shortly, but she had no interest in watching it.

It wasn't that they aren't good together. They are _great_ together. She knows this, and has no problem accepting the fact. Actually, she knows that it is a fierce source of pride for the both of them, that they are so successful as partners. And even she would never truly claim that they are only partners. She knows that they are also friends. Good friends. The type that can be relied upon, leaned on, and even cried on occasionally. They are steady and constant and she very much enjoys the dynamic that they share. There has always been a mutual attraction that the two of them share, and it was only logical. Both are attractive, available, and successful representations of their gender. In her mind, this was a fairly easy conclusion to come to, and truthfully she's always known it.

But the reality is that Booth and she can never be more then what they are without destroying what they have. They are very, very different people. And while she knows that people don't need to be the same to have a successful romantic relationship, she does know that there are some things that simply have to be seen eye to eye. Those differences didn't hinder their partnership, or even their friendship, but it would certainly spell death to anything more than that.

_And THAT was absolutely unacceptable._

So why was this _so hard_? Why was the thought of doing whatever it took to ensure the survival of their partnership and friendship such a difficult task to swallow? She turned once again to stare out the window, even though there wasn't anything but a thick veil of cloud cover beneath them. And as she watched the occasional wisps of white that flew by as the aircraft sliced through them, she was suddenly flooded with an emotion that was almost completely foreign to her. It was so intense that it took her by surprise, leaving her momentarily breathless. She didn't really have any good descriptors for the experience, despite her vast vocabulary and oral skills. She didn't feel like she was missing her partner, or even the company of a dear friend, although those emotions were surely present here. This was so much more.

Right now, in this moment, she found herself wanting things that she was not even able to fully articulate. She had spent most of her life feeling alone, but the instant she met Booth's heated gaze, glowing brightly as she had surrendered herself to him; she had felt as though she belonged to someone. This final thought had her shaking her head and sitting up a little straighter. The complete lack of logic was overwhelming. Not only could a person not belong to another, she would never find comfort in the knowledge that she herself did indeed belong to, or at least with, another human being.

Reaching into her carry-on bag below her feet, she grabbed a magazine to lose herself in. Obviously, she wasn't thinking clearly. What she needed was exactly what she was going to get. Some time away. Away from Booth, away from the Jeffersonian, and away from thinking about strange feelings and imaginations. She stretched out contentedly, flipping the magazine open. When she got back, everything would be back to normal, and she was certain that the next time she saw Booth, she would experience only the happiness of seeing a friend missed, with maybe a little undercurrent of the sexual tension that was now familiar to her.

She would not feel...whatever _that_ had been.

Because deep in her subconscious, where she would never admit to feeling it, she couldn't help but wonder what to do if, unlike simple physical attraction, this thing just might be worth risking it all for.

* * *

**_Please to be telling me what you thought... =)_**


End file.
